Space Angels

This is the story of a year where grief and fear almost swallowed all of us.

In the depths of soft imagination, retreating into one’s psyche seemed the only option to protect while dealing with the concern and confusion coming from almost every direction. Walls were seemingly going up everywhere, and the constant nagging thought of recovery seemed impossible. We needed something big to pull us all out, something complete.

I began fantasizing about our own special set of Imaginal cells, and how they might be the answer. Our unique and beautiful bug soup could save us all. We could retreat, dissolve, and come out completely new, all the way down to our gooey cellular form. Our souls might just be saved and rise up from land to somewhere in the stars. We could go back to the basics of kindness, compassion, a deeper understanding of the human condition, and reread all the ancient books given to us by Mother Nature.

So we built this idea of a beautiful, floating world, this gift, my offering of just a sliver of what our new future could look like. Where boats are spaceships, the insides of trees are full of glitter, and nature has begun to regrow, stronger and more beautiful than ever. We will learn how to fly, how to communicate just by looking directly into the eyes of another human being. No words, no gestures, just deep understanding, full of warmth and remembering.

If nostalgia is the pain from an old wound, than perhaps we are the soothsayer surgeons, time-traveling archetypes, the one’s that are still learning, but already have a deeper understand of how to fix it all.

When we put all the pieces back together, it will be bigger than anything we could ever imagine. Its time for us to stop remembering what we think we know, and instead start paying attention to the things we have forgotten.

Space Angels

This is the story of a year where grief and fear almost swallowed all of us.

In the depths of soft imagination, retreating into one’s psyche seemed the only option to protect while dealing with the concern and confusion coming from almost every direction. Walls were seemingly going up everywhere, and the constant nagging thought of recovery seemed impossible. We needed something big to pull us all out, something complete.

I began fantasizing about our own special set of Imaginal cells, and how they might be the answer. Our unique and beautiful bug soup could save us all. We could retreat, dissolve, and come out completely new, all the way down to our gooey cellular form. Our souls might just be saved and rise up from land to somewhere in the stars. We could go back to the basics of kindness, compassion, a deeper understanding of the human condition, and reread all the ancient books given to us by Mother Nature.

So we built this idea of a beautiful, floating world, this gift, my offering of just a sliver of what our new future could look like. Where boats are spaceships, the insides of trees are full of glitter, and nature has begun to regrow, stronger and more beautiful than ever. We will learn how to fly, how to communicate just by looking directly into the eyes of another human being. No words, no gestures, just deep understanding, full of warmth and remembering.

If nostalgia is the pain from an old wound, than perhaps we are the soothsayer surgeons, time-traveling archetypes, the one’s that are still learning, but already have a deeper understand of how to fix it all.

When we put all the pieces back together, it will be bigger than anything we could ever imagine. Its time for us to stop remembering what we think we know, and instead start paying attention to the things we have forgotten.

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